


Trouvaille

by purepeach



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Bands, College Age AU, F/M, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Other tags to be added, coming-out, self-hate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-07 12:52:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6805324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purepeach/pseuds/purepeach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam will readily admit he leads a dull life.</p><p>What he won't admit? That he possibly has a crush on the musician he met at a house show.</p><p>Featuring long drives, unrequited love, friends who are too enthusiastic to set him up, drunken kisses, wrestling,  intimidating ex-boyfriends, a dinky college town, kinda sorta picnic dates, and a snowstorm fit for a romantic comedy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nice Spots

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for giving my story a chance. This is my first entry on here and I haven't written in a long time. Well-intentioned critiques are welcome. Anyways, enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: Nothing in this is truth. I don't own the rights to any of the songs mentioned.

The thing about the city is that it swallows you slowly.

Liam realizes this just as he’s sliding down its throat: the one-year anniversary of his move to Kansas City. He wakes up that morning, looks out the window, and sees nothing but gray.

There’s nothing romantic about any of it. Politicians embezzle all the money that should be going into the infrastructure, so the streets are more cracked than smooth and the buildings lean liked tired commuters. There’s an initial charm to the giant, run-down houses and the idea of piling yourself and two other clueless twenty year olds into them, but it wears off after you hear the gunshots a few streets down. It’s the tenth most dangerous city in America.

He goes into the bathroom to wash up and opens the door right into Niall’s face.

“Fuck!” A mess of foamy toothpaste muffles his voice and Liam hisses in sympathy and apology.

“My bad, didn’t see you there.”

“It’s all good,” Niall spits out the toothpaste and Liam winces at the bit of blood accompanying it. “I dunno why this house is built so wonky, anyway.”

He smiles and it makes Liam forget about the smog outside.

Liam takes his turn at the sink to brush his teeth while Niall stands behind him and tousles his hair, experimentally pulling pieces to achieve the perfectly messy coif. There are some short pieces of brown hair at the edge of the porcelain, which means Harry must’ve gotten up earlier.

They finish at the same time and head into the kitchen, where Harry is splayed out on the floor, using the bottom of the fridge to keep his feet in place as his lifts his bum into the air. He stops halfway up his downward dog, cranes his head to look at his roommates, and says “good morning.” It can’t be good for his spine.

“Morning!” Niall says.

“Hey, Harry.” Liam fills a bowl with generic cereal and pours some possibly expired milk on it. It smells okay, tastes fine.

They sit at the rickety, Freecycled table together, only wearing underwear. It’s their comfortable morning routine and Liam can’t help but admit it’s usually the best part of the day. Niall goes into too much detail about his ridiculous sex dream but it’s all in good fun and makes Liam and Harry laugh so hard that they both squirt milk out of their nose. Harry follows up with an anecdote eerily similar to Niall’s dream and nobody knows how to continue the conversation after that.

Liam takes their dishes to the sink and sighs.

“Can you believe I’ve lived here for a year?”

“Why do you not sound thrilled?” Harry teases.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love you both.” Niall grins outrageously big at that. “But I feel like I’m at a crossroads. I don’t know how much longer I can work at a sandwich shop and live between liquor stores. It’s this city.”

“I understand what you’re saying but…” Harry pauses. He doesn’t seem to want to expand on the thought.

“I don’t mean to be a bummer so early in the day!” Liam apologizes with a half-hearted smile.

“Oh, fuck off!” Niall interjects, standing up and playfully punching Liam in the shoulder. “We should celebrate by getting out of town tonight. I’ll hit up Ed and see if he knows about anything cool happening.”

“And I’ll ask Kendall.” Harry adds. He smiles softly.

Liam’s friends are good at lifting the fog.

-

Ed and Kendall end up both suggesting the same destination: some house party in Lawrence, a college town nearby. It’s apparently going to be wild. Harry says yes for the music, Niall for the beer, and Harry for Kendall.

-

The drive down is crowded. Harry drives and Kendall deserves shotgun, which leaves Harry in between the giggling duo that is Ed and Niall. The dynamic is that of a family on a road trip, with Harry and Kendall being the parents. The backseat bumps cheeks whenever Harry gets lost and has to do a quick U-turn, but Liam loves being at the center of all his friends. The further they drive from Kansas City, the brighter the sun shines.

“So tell me more about this party tonight, who all will I know there?” Liam asks once Niall and Ed have stopped cry-laughing about some night nobody remembers.

Kendall pipes up, ever so knowledgeable.

“It’s at some big house that, like, five guys our age live in. It’s kind of a mess, but in an…amusing way. They’re all really nice, though. They love having people over and are great hosts. There’s actually going to be some live music.

-

They walk in to a shoulder-to-shoulder house, past the sign on the door that reads “NO FUCKERS ALLOWED.” Liam stands on the tips of his toes to look over the throbbing mob of people. There’s a makeshift DJ set up in the alcove of the living room and partygoers have hijacked it to play The The’s Giant on repeat. At the end of the room, he can spot the edge of an archway leading to a kitchen, he thinks. Liam bobs his head along to the percussion as he squeezes through a cluster of girls with numb noses.

“It’s loud!” Niall exclaims. His smile takes up most of his face.

“I don’t know a single person here.” Harry’s complaint is cut short by a kiss from Kendall. Liam admires her dedication to making Harry comfortable.

“Bands don’t start until later but we should head into the basement.” Leave it to Ed to create an itinerary for the party, Liam thinks. Ed disappears into the crowd and even his red cap of curls can’t identify him.

“I’m guessing we should make our way?” Niall nods toward the archway and makes the dive also.

Liam turns to confirm with Kendall and Harry but they’re nowhere to be found. Suddenly, a body thuds against his jutting hipbone and he takes a tumble to the ground. There’s an inane, drunk twenty-something struggling to crawl off of him, mumbling.

“Fuck! Sorry! I’m so drunk.” It’s a sharp faced brunette with bright blue eyes who’s already let loose for the night. “Wow, I don’t usually get this drunk. Let me make it up to you.” He turns around and grabs a bottle of vodka poking out of a girl’s messenger bag.

“A gift from me to you.” He offers it up sheepishly and Liam can’t help but grin.

“It’s alright, people fall all the time. I might have a sip or two, though we ought to put it back before she notices.” He unscrews the cap and they both take long pulls.

“Ugh, cucumber? The fuck?”

Liam shrugs. “It’s not so bad, honestly.”

“You fucker!” He hits him in the ribcage playfully, though he nails the spot where he had just skull-bashed Liam. “Anyways, who the fuck are you? This is my house.”

“Liam.” He offers a hand up.

“Louis.” He reaches to reciprocate, but locks eyes with a friend across the room that’s been calling his name for the past minute or so. “Per-motherfucking-rie!”

In the same sort of whirlwind way they had met, Louis grabs Liam’s forearm and leads him over to a peroxide blonde with purple lipstick and wine-stained teeth.

“Looouis! And some buff guy!” She pulls them both into a hug and Liam nearly hits his head on the dangerously low kitchen light fixture.

“This is Liam, he’s cool.” Louis pushes back his sweaty mess of a quiff. “Haven’t seen you around here in a while, what happened?”

“You haven’t heard?”

“Heard what? How is there something I don’t know?”

“We split.” Perrie starts flailing about in her fit of anger. “Totally over. He didn’t even care! He just stopped talking to me, like honestly? What the hell?”

Louis rolls his eyes. “I knew it, I knew he couldn’t last a month. Where’s Nick? I have some bet money to claim!”

The aforementioned Nick pops out of the crowd comically and Liam realizes he hasn’t gotten a word in edgewise.

“I’m so sorry to hear that!” He squeezes Perrie’s shoulder and she softens.

“It’s really okay. Everybody told me he wasn’t a long distance runner, you know?”

“Guys like that are a waste of time and you’re way too beautiful to worry about that.” He hopes his consolation penetrates her drunken thoughts.

Perrie hugs him again and squeezes his torso with unexpected might. “Aww, what the heck! This guy is so sweet. Louis, you always find the coolest kids at parties. Where did you come from and where can I get one?”

They launch into a discussion about Kansas City and Lawrence’s differences, derail the conversation into one about Lene Lovich’s ululations, and manage to learn a bit about each other before the unmistakable shriek of microphone feedback travels through the house. Trashed girls imitate it and trashy boys holler back at it.

“Oh, shit! They’re starting!” Louis once again leads his people to the basement - pointing out puddles to avoid and slamming a rubber mat against the entrance once they’ve passed the threshold. Liam spots his friends standing in the middle of the thickening crowd and heads over in fear that they might once again vanish.

“Wow, this place is a trip.” He laughs, throwing his arms around Kendall and Harry, who have settled into a nice buzz.

“You just missed a fight! They weren’t mad or anything, just having a good time, I think.” Harry grins wide and Kendall leans her head against Liam.

The first band surprises Liam. 80s inspired synth-pop with a modern R&B twist. The black haired bassist smiles at Niall through the whole set and he comments on how cute her outfit is the entire time, ending each comment with reassurance that her playing is top-notch as well. They finish on a ballad that leaves the crowd a bit sleepy and Niall hops toward the girl as she packs up her bass.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Louis rolls his eyes and nudges Liam in that same sore spot. “The guy Perrie was talking about? He’s already trying to hook up with Gigi.”

Liam chuckles at Louis’s gossipy attitude and cranes his neck to look over at a concrete beam in the middle of the cramped basement. He sees a blonde girl leaning against it and a cap of bleached hair with visible black roots in front of her. Perrie’s ex is leaning over and whispering something unspeakable, judging by the way Gigi is chewing on her glossy bottom lip and blushing uncontrollably.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love him. He needs to slow the fuck down, though.” Louis cups his hands around his mouth. “Hey, Zayn! Will you fuck me next?” He smiles wryly as Zayn turns around.

Needless to say, Liam isn’t quite prepared.

He’s handsome, obviously mixed. Freckled, hazel eyes and the perfect amount of stubble. Zayn grins at Louis with only a bit of contempt in his countenance. Liam can’t help but admire even the curve of his neck, his bobbing Adam’s apple.

“Anytime, babe!” Zayn retaliates and, god, even his voice is honeyed.

-

Zayn’s calloused fingers dart between strings on his black Gibson SG and steadying the gear as the raucous crowds folds in on itself and topples anything near it. Their music is darker, more energetic than the previous band. Zayn sings breathily and the way his pursed lips press against the metal mesh of the microphone shouldn’t be as erotic as it is. Judging from the agape mouths of everyone around him, Liam isn’t the only fan.

They verge on punk but use enough effects to add depth to the sound, even inside of a concrete basement.

They finish their fifth song, a fast-paced one that had Liam moving with the crowd as it swung around in the small space. Everybody is drunkenly screaming and Liam tries to ignore the lingering cucumber flavor of the vodka from earlier. Zayn turns to the drummer and talks lowly.

Louis heckles again. “Shut up and play the hits!”

Instantly, Zayn pivots on his heels and shouts into the microphone; “Well, you tried it just for once. Found it alright for kicks, but now you found out that it’s a habit that sticks and you’re an orgasm addict!”

The energy of the room explodes and multiple sets of hands hold onto Liam as the room moves back and forth like it’s a plane going through turbulence. His head bounces around in his skull for a verse before he’s able to steady himself and move in sync with the music.

Each time Zayn cries out the iconic moaning chorus, Liam stares unblinkingly.

“It’s a labor of love fucking yourself to death!”

-

As soon as the song ends, Zayn’s band begins packing their gear up. They seem a bit put off by the hordes of people obliviously swarming the exit. Louis introduces himself to Liam’s friends while Liam busies himself with subtly moving people out of the way.

“Are you leaving?” Louis interrupts himself to shout after Zayn.

Zayn simply shrugs before carrying his amp up the treacherous stairs.

Louis rolls his eyes and pulls the group in close.

“The cute ones are always troublemakers. Right, Liam?” He winks and Liam flushes pink.

“Oh, admit it. I saw you eyeing him all night.”

Kendall, Harry, and Niall cock their eyebrows and turn to Liam expectantly.

Truth is, Liam has never fancied boys. Girls. Girls are soft. He likes them in sundresses, holding his hand. He likes them with long eyelashes and plump lips. He likes the thought of raising a family.

He stops to think: _there’s no reason Zayn can’t be all those things._ He shoos the thought away and gives his friends a crooked grin.

“Nah, he’s handsome for sure. I’m straight, though.”

Louis shoots his a disappointed look but doesn’t linger on the subject. His friends barely register the forming identity crisis in Liam’s chest. He gets a feeling that Louis won’t forget, though.

They discuss the creepy vibe of the windowless basement before deciding to head upstairs, as it seems most of the guests are. Midway through the stairs, people are pouring out of a side door into what Liam assumes is the back yard. He splits off from his group to catch some air and – God – it feels good. The air is cool, yet humid. It sticks a bit to his skin in the most pleasant way.

Looking around, Liam realizes he knows none of these people and senses a bit of anxiety enter his system. They’re different from the crusty punks of Kansas City. They’re all different, there’s no uniform. Over by the side yard, a blue-haired girl with glassy eyes pukes into a rusty can. One of her friends runs over to pull back her hair, but it’s too late. To Liam’s left, a makeshift bench leans against the house. Two boys wearing oversized Jerzees, each emblazoned with gas station logos, take turns trying not to fall off of the bench.

Liam then looks forward. About fifteen people have gathered around the front of a parked car. He sees a shock of blonde amongst them and his heart jumps. As if drawn by some invisible fishing line, he circles the group, looking for an entrance. Leaning against the hood of the car, flanked by his band mates, is Zayn. He coolly takes a puff of a Marlboro and makes direct eye contact with Liam.

Liam steps into the crowd and nods at Zayn, surprised with himself for remaining so calm. He stutters for a moment. He can’t just waltz up and start a conversation for no reason. He feels small, suddenly.

“You want one? Saw you looking at this.” Zayn lifts his cigarette pack to signify his intentions.

“Yeah, sure. Sorry to bum one.” Liam scoots in closer, resting his bum on the hood.

“Nah, just got a new pack. No worries.” Zayn pulls one out of the pack smoothly and Liam can’t help but notice that if it’s a new pack, Zayn must chain smoke because there’s only three left, including an upside down, lucky cigarette.

Liam plucks it from Zayn’s hands and rests it between his lips. Zayn looks at him with raised eyebrows.

“Haven’t got a lighter either, huh?” He seems more amused than upset, but it still leaves Liam flushed and nervous.

Zayn leans in close and Liam moves to take the mini Bic from him, but instead Zayn cups one hand around the cigarette and lights it for Liam. The proximity prompts Liam to inhale sharply and he sputters. As Liam coughs on the first puff, Zayn laughs.

“I’m guessing you’re not a smoker.”

“No, no, not really. Occasionally. Socially?” Liam offers.

Zayn stamps out his and takes Liam’s for a short puff before slipping it back in between Liam’s quivering lips.

“We can share then. No point in being wasteful.”

Liam tries to focus on the flavor of the tobacco and its serpentine smoke instead of the hole in Zayn’s Levi’s that displays his also black boxers. The people around them have devolved into a drunken half-argument about experimental artists, none of which Liam knows.

“Say what you want, but Arca’s new album changed everything.” A boy with a baseball cap and baby face says in between sips of beer.

“I’d argue against that. His sophomore album didn’t stand up to how groundbreaking Xen was.” He pauses and Liam notes how the crowd stops for Zayn unlike any other guest. “Reverie should be interesting. I’m hoping he pushes the industrial touches more.”

Liam’s lost, but his skin feels too hot. He stares at Zayn’s profile as the crowd murmurs in agreement. His eyelashes are so long.

“You listen to much music?” Zayn turns to him and it makes Liam feel like they’re the only ones around.

“I… I listen to a lot of R&B. Haven’t listened to much new stuff lately. There’s some good local acts in KC,” Zayn snorts at that, “Some, some.”

Zayn pulls out his phone and begins tapping the screen. Liams feels sheepish at the thought of Zayn ignoring him, but he’s suddenly holding a phone that isn’t his.

“Put your number in there, I’ll send you a playlist.” Zayn and Liam stare at each other expectantly. “Or something.”

Liam goes to enter his information, his thumb and index finger tripping over each other. Zayn furrows his brows as he smokes.

“You type like a grandpa.”

Liam chuckles, bravely putting the phone in Zayn’s pocket when he’s done. He picks the cigarette out of Zayn’s mouth and pulls from it slowly, all the while making eye contact. Maybe it’s the nicotine, or adrenaline, or cucumber vodka, but Liam feels bold.

Zayn just stares back, impressed, as the smoke billows out of Liam’s mouth. He looks toward the ground as Liam flicks the ember away.

“You said you’re from KC?”

“Grew up in Chanute, moved around for a bit, ended up there last year. Today, actually… it’s been a year today.” The thought leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

“I’m from here. Townie status.” Zayn tilts his head and smirks. “KC is a shit hole, I hope you don’t mind me saying that.”

Liam goes to scowl but it comes out a smile. “No, it’s only true. I’ve never been here. I like Lawrence, though. It’s charming. Of course, I’ve only seen a few blocks of it.”

“Not much more than that, to be honest. There are some nice spots.” Zayn leans back until he’s lying against the windshield. Liam does the same. “The downtown is kind of uptight, the same people are always around, but everything is full of nostalgia.”

Zayn stops. Liam can’t tell if he’s done or thinking, so he waits. The stars shine brighter out here, even if just a little bit. Zayn goes on.

“Those nice spots… There’s a trail in the east part. It’s basically in people’s backyards, but it’s so green right now. Especially after it rains, it’s just-“ Zayn lifts his hands up and spreads them. “Green, green. Everywhere.”

“Is it close?”

“Ten blocks, maybe.”

They rest, looking up, letting their eyes soak up the Milky Way.

They don’t go. Liam doesn’t ask anymore and Zayn seems reticent to let a freshly acquainted person into a special place of his. When they finally peel themselves from the hood of the car, they give each other gentle looks.

“I didn’t see your name when you put it in my phone.”

"Liam.”

“Zayn, though…” He scratches the back of his head. “I’m guessing you knew that. Saw you talking to Louis. He’s got a bit of a big mouth. Love him, I just hope he didn’t tell too many stories.”

“Only the good ones.” Liam teases, brushing dust and leaves off of his pants. “I’ll see you next time I’m in town?”

“Maybe.” Zayn walks away.

No good bye, no more soft gazes. Liam finds himself offended at first, but as the night goes on, he begins to appreciate the open-endedness of it all.

-

He’s miraculously not hungover the next day, unlike his unlucky roommates, who spend the morning in shifts in front of the toilet.

He thinks about Zayn’s mouth, how his eyes crinkled when he let himself laugh.

Liam decides to go for a run.

The next day at work, he makes a sandwich for a girl named Sophia. She’s got big eyes and a cute pout, so he asks her out on a date. It’s warm, so they go for a bike ride. She’s wearing a skater skirt with lots of little flowers on it. It flies up when they go down hills, but he doesn’t say anything. Liam buys her ice cream and she laughs at his jokes. Their dynamic is calm and gentle. There’s no spark, but the comfort is familiar and safe. It reminds him of his parents. After they finish the malt balls at the bottom of their waffles cones, she invites him over. They fuck. There’s no fireworks. It’s simple. He stays the night to watch Jiro Dreams of Sushi. They make plans for next weekend.

He goes home and refuses to touch himself to the thought of Zayn’s lips. The confusion burns hot in his stomach. He goes for a run.

“If anything, it’s just a crush. Even straight guys get crushes. It doesn’t mean anything.” Liam mutters to himself as he roughly washes the dishes.

Harry appears from the living room to worriedly look at Liam, who instantly stops talking to himself.

“Were you on the phone just now?”

“No.” Liam turns the faucet off and shakes his hands. Water gets everywhere.

“Okay.” Harry grabs a bundle of bok choy and a jar of coconut oil. Liam goes to sit down. “How’s Sophia?”

“She’s good.”  
Niall enters, carrying grocery bags filled with instant ramen and other sorts of noodles.

“You’ve been acting weird since that party!” He drops the plastic bags onto the kitchen table, startling the dazed Liam.

Harry shoots a disappointed look at his friend, then an embarrassed one at Liam as if to say: _Yes, we’ve been talking about you, but only because we’re worried._

“C’mon, Harry. Someone had to say it sooner or later.” He pulls a room temperature Capri Sun out and stabs it repeatedly with its flimsy straw. “Want one?” Liam shakes his head and Niall contentedly sips on his.

“I’ve just been feeling off.”

They occupy the room in silence. An emotional impasse.

Harry opens his mouth to speak but Liam’s phone pings. He looks down at it and his hearts stops for a second. It’s an unknown number.

Niall noisily sucks up the rest of his Capri Sun.

“Well, go on. Read the message.”

Harry goes back to his stir-fry, Niall leaves to switch on the PS2.

_1 (785) 555 4319:_

_hey if yr interested in some new music there’s another house show this sat. diff house but basically same people. haha lawrence is so small_

Followed by another message.

_this is zayn btw_

Liam sits there for a moment before responding.

_Cool! What time do you think it’ll happen? I’m super down!_

He backspaces and tries again, this time making the effort to lowercase the beginning of each sentence.

_sounds chill. time? might be busy but I’ll see if I can come_

While he waits, he adds Zayn to his contacts.

A couple dozen minutes pass and Liam simply waits at the kitchen table, looking at his phone in hopes that the little dots in the corner will appear.

Harry finishes his stir-fry, plates it beautifully, and eats it while Liam sits.

“Expecting a message?”

Liam snaps out of his stupor.

“Oh, oh, it’s nothing. Just zoning out. It’s nothing important.”

His phone pings again and he immediately grabs it. Harry chews his food slowly and looks at his roommate in confusion.

_Zayn:_

_no pressure obviously. probably around 10. bring some friends if you want. 1290 nj st_

Liam responds.

_cool I’ll see what I can do_

His phone vibrates in his hand.

_Sophia:_

_Does it make me silly to say that I’m excited for Saturday? I can’t wait! My roommate has been helping me pick out an outfit, thanks for letting me choose our dinner spot. Meet me at Blue Koi at 8:30 :-)_

Liam hesitates and the confusion in his guts twists until he’s holding his waist in pain.

_Liam:_

_I can’t wait either! I’ll see you then._


	2. Bits and Pieces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't help but write this up this morning. Comments, kudos, and hits are always appreciated. Have a lovely day, babes.

Liam looks at his reflection in the hallway mirror and adjusts his blazer, trying to ignore the nervous churning in his stomach. He’s spent the evening trying to convince himself that his upset stomach is in anticipation of the date, but every time he blinks he’s met with visions of hazel eyes and a smoky smirk.

“You look great.” Harry says from the hallway, smiling softly like a mother. “Should we expect you back tonight, or…?” He brushes back his long locks and looks at Liam expectantly.

“Not sure.” A lie. Liam was very sure. His plan was to get to Blue Koi at 8:30, leave at 9:30, and drive straight to Lawrence. The moral code instilled in him by his parents wouldn’t allow him to cancel the date altogether, though he still felt a pang of guilt when he thought about leaving Sophia alone tonight.

“Well, let us know. I think Niall and I are staying in tonight. Maybe gonna order a pizza.”

“Save me a slice.” Liam adjusts his tie and Harry walks away, gently shaking his head.

“As if!” Niall shouts out from the living room.

-

Sophia arrives at the same time and Liam can’t help but admire their symmetry. She’s wearing a baby blue dress. It’s tasteful, but cute. Liam lets himself smile when she skips over to him and plants a kiss on his cheek. She’s charming.

The waiter seats them swiftly near the window. They watch the sun set as they place their orders. Liam opts for a vegetarian roll in hopes that something simple will ease his stomach.

Their conversation is light and airy. She compliments his clothes, notices his hair is styled today. She asks about his family, to which he responds simply. He grew up in a small town and his parents had a small farm on their land. At 6, his parents gifted him a golden retriever that liked to eat flowers. He went to a high school of 100 students.

Liam, on the other hand, is a bit of a mess. By the time they get their food, it’s 9. He has thirty minutes to eat but he knows Sophia will be hurt if he leaves as soon as he finishes his food. He struggles to think of questions for her.

“Where are you from?”

“You already asked that,” She never seems upset. Maybe a bit concerned, if anything. “East coast. White picket fences. The whole waspy shebang.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Liam looks down at his nearly empty plate. “I just have a lot on my mind lately.”

“It’s okay! I’d rather you relax tonight. I was going to invite you over, but maybe you should rest?”

Liam eats his last piece. It tastes like guilt.

-

Liam arrives in Lawrence at 10:22. He pulls his car around and examines the house. It looks empty; no beer cans tossed to the side of the house or silhouettes in the windows. His ears grow hot with embarrassment. In his eagerness to make it on time, he’s early. The biggest faux pas to a group of cool kids like Zayn’s friends.

Liam parks on a side street and contemplates all the possible ways he could out himself as an idiot tonight. He’s pulled up Google to search “anxiety easy coping methods” when someone taps his window.

It’s Zayn. He’s gives Liam a smile as the window rolls down.

“You came, wasn’t sure if I’d see you tonight.” Liam lets himself stare for a solid few seconds. He remembers now what he was so nervous about. He exits out of the tab – nothing can ease his nerves.

Zayn cocks his head in query and Liam chokes on his own spit.

“Yeah!” He coughs. “I mean, yeah. I figured it could be fun, thought I’d swing by.”

“I’m happy you came.” Zayn admits. “Was worried you were too cool for me.” He laughs, but it comes across surprisingly nervous. Liam takes a bit of comfort in knowing that his calm façade has worked to an extent.

“So, uh, what’s with the blazer? You look dressed up.”

Oh, he had forgotten to switch clothes. Liam bit his lip and looked away.

“Actually, I just came from a date.”

Zayn stiffens and narrows his eyes.

“You should probably change. Don’t want to get any Miller High Life on that.”

Zayn turns around and leans against the driver’s door. Liam watches him procure a pack from his back pocket. He absentmindedly wonders when Zayn smoked his lucky cig from the pack they shared.

Liam reaches into the back seat and pulls a spare shirt from his high school backpack. There are still some papers in there, even though he graduated years ago. It’s just a black Hanes tee with a pocket, but it’ll do. He slips off his button up and Liam swears he can feel Zayn’s eyes. He casually glances in the side mirror to meet Zayn’s stare for a mere moment before Zayn shifts and nonchalantly takes a puff. Liam shakes his head and adjusts his thick, short curls. _Just a coincidence_ , he thinks to himself, _nothing._

Liam opens the door and Zayn sidesteps out of the way. The way Zayn raises his eyebrows leads Liam to think that the simple outfit suits him.

“You’ll fit right in.”

He peers down at himself to realize he’s accidentally put on an entirely black ensemble.

“Do I look like a poser?” Liam jokes, falling into step beside Zayn. The orange tip of the cigarette lights their way while the burnt brown bulbs of the streetlights flicker.

“How’s home?” Zayn asks casually.

“It’s okay. My roommates – not sure if you met them – have been acting a bit weird since last weekend.” Liam hesitates because, well, it’s him. Not them. “Everything’s the same as usual.”

“Not much is going on here, either.”

They walk in silence for a bit before the warm lights of the house greet them.

“I’ve always thought that I’ve been living my life in a fog, if that makes sense? Like… I’m just blindly fumbling about, grabbing what I can and not letting go. I have no foresight.” Liam chews on the inside of his mouth, thinking over his words. He has to stop himself from rambling. “I bring that up because, um, I guess, thanks for inviting me out tonight. It’s nice to meet new people.”

Liam’s taken aback by Zayn’s cozy laugh. He stills, thinking he’s being made fun of, but Zayn responds.

“You’re so honest. It’s refreshing, actually.” Zayn holds the screen door open for Liam. “Wouldn’t have expected such a nice boy to pop into my life. Seems kind of like a cosmic joke.”

Liam opens his mouth to ask for elaboration, but standing in the doorway is Louis, looking far more sober than last weekend.

“Look who it is,” he pulls them both inside. “Now that we’ve got a pretty face and a set of big arms here, the party can really start.”

Liam decides that night that Louis is nice. He’s playful and teasing, but never cruel. He may tell you what to do, like “take this shot” or “climb this gutter,” but it’s all in good fun. He’s sociable. People like him, even if he insults them to their face – “Christ, your teeth get more crooked every time I see you.”

They play beer pong, explore the rotting roof, get caught in a hole in the roof, shimmy down pipes, maybe at some point a band plays, but Liam’s not paying attention to anything besides Zayn.

Liam decides that night that Zayn is beautiful. Even if he can’t figure out what that means for himself (or them, he dares to think.) It’s more than his high cheekbones and pursed lips. It’s in the way he delicately holds his beer. It’s in the way he flags down his friends with a nod. Every interaction feels intensely personal. Liam watches Zayn chat with a friend and admits that maybe their conversation wasn’t that special. The way Zayn touches his friend’s arm when they talk, moves in a bit too close to listen – they’re not behaviors that belong to Liam. It puts him in a strange mood. He’s not allowed to be jealous over a boy he’s seen twice, but it doesn’t stop him from taking on an overprotective edge.

A girl wedges herself in between Zayn and Liam in the middle of someone’s rant of a story. She’s got slick black hair and thick eyeliner. Zayn wraps his arm around her and pulls her in close. They speak quietly and Liam listens.

“ – was wondering what you were up to tonight?” She poses the proposition carefully. “You could come back to mine, I heard about Perrie. Thought you might want to talk?”

Zayn’s poker face falters as she adds:

“Or maybe something else?”

Liam feels his ears burn and the edges of his vision blur. He’s simultaneously disillusioned and distraught with himself for expecting Zayn to dedicate the night to him. Of course, Zayn is straight. _I’m straight too_ , Liam thinks, but it weighs heavy like a lie. They’re incompatible. Tonight, Zayn will go home with that girl and Liam will drive back to Kansas City, alone.

“I’ll let you know when I’m ready to ditch, yeah?” Zayn brushes her hair out of her face and kisses her powdered cheek. She leaves with a bounce in her step.

-

The night goes on as it should – with careless drinking, makeshift karaoke, and “buttfights,” as Liam learns they’re called. It’s a wrestling game of sorts where the aim is to draw first blood or bite your opponent on the ass. It’s cute, Liam thinks. He definitely doesn’t stare when Zayn takes off his shirt to pin a stocky boy to the sticky hardwood floors. He definitely doesn’t trace the bead of sweat traveling down his spine.

“Liam,” Louis appears from behind to squeeze his arm. “You should try, eh?”

Liam nearly drops his drink at the thought of lying on top of Zayn. They’re unevenly matched: Zayn is much too wiry for him. And Liam – well, Liam runs every morning and took up boxing at thirteen.

Before he can answer, Louis grabs his beer and pushes him into the circle, where Zayn is victoriously pumping his fists in the air.

“Fight!” The crowd starts up again.

“This is just unfair.” Zayn rolls his shoulders and wipes the sweat off his upper lip.

“That’s what I said.” Liam shyly takes off his shirt and a couple of girls whistle at him. He blushes. When Zayn slowly looks him up and down, he blushes harder.

“I think you might stand a chance.” He sinks into a steady stance. Liam swallows hard and does the same.

Zayn is unexpectedly lithe; he slips out of holds easily and practically climbs on Liam. He must have taken some sort of martial art, because Liam continually finds himself flipped onto the ground. For a moment, Zayn has Liam’s arms pinned above his head.

“You’re not taking it easy on me, are you?” He pants. Liam has to close his eyes in order to will himself down. He feels out of control like this.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He knocks Zayn’s knees to the side and slides out from under him, but a hand grabs his torso and pivots him on the floor. His head is spinning uncontrollably by the time a set of teeth sink into his butt. He shrieks girlishly. Luckily, the cheering is too loud for anyone to notice.

They get up and shake hands.

“Why’re you so good at that?” Liam gasps.

Zayn merely shrugs before Louis jumps into the middle and hoists Zayn’s fist into the air like a referee.

“The reigning champ!”

The crowd devolves into a hooting mess of sweaty twenty somethings.

Zayn disappears into the mass and Liam spends a solid few minutes looking for him. Louis is too busy telling tall tales and none of the other attendees are coherent enough to hold a conversation that’s not about Father John Misty’s beard.

He pulls himself up the old stairs by the mahogany railing. Waves of heat are rolling off the crowd below him and Liam wonders how he didn’t faint from heat stroke down there.

As he ascends, he hears a faint conversation. He prepares himself to see the black haired girl from earlier, but he’s met with something different.

Zayn’s leaning against the hallway wall and a taller man with long red hair and light eyelashes has one of his elbows propped up next to Zayn’s head. Liam can feel that he’s intruding, but he crouches next to the banister and listens in on a private conversation for the second time tonight.

“It’s been so long, Zayn. Why don’t we talk anymore?”

“I don’t know.”

“You remember the week we spent in Chicago?”

Judging by the look in his eyes, Zayn seems to remember.

“I may, yeah. Bits and pieces.”

The redhead laughs. “Which bits and pieces? The bit where you told me you loved me or the piece where I fucked you so hard your face left an indent in the mattress?”

Zayn doesn’t seem to have a retort, so the man leans in and whispers something. The moment mirrors when Liam first saw Zayn pressing that girl against the concrete beam. This time, Zayn is the one blushing uncontrollably and biting his lower lip.

“Think about it, okay? Text me when you want to leave.”

Liam runs downstairs, not caring that they could probably hear his escape.

“Liam?” Zayn calls from the second floor, but Liam’s already in the petri dish of a party.

Liam doesn’t know what to do with the information he’s gathered tonight. There’s no denying that Zayn was with that redheaded man, but he also seemed very interested in the black haired girl. The concept of bisexuality isn’t unfamiliar to him, but its reality is difficult to come to terms with. It opens a new possibility to Liam. Is that something he could identify as? Is he just on a stepping-stone to gay or will he go running back to girls?

“Liam!” Zayn pushes his way through the crowd. “Hey.”

“You leaving soon?” Liam replies shortly, immediately regretting it. Zayn’s face drops.

“Yeah, I actually want to leave right now.” Zayn hooks his finger into one of Liam’s belt loops, moving through the crowd quickly. Before he knows it, they’re in the deserted front yard.

“Where are you going?” Liam huffs, his cool front melting.

“Follow me.”

It’s the first time Zayn has been direct with him and Liam can’t help but feel like a petulant child, looking back on his actions over the course of the night.

They walk only a few blocks before a canopy reaches above them and rabbits scurry out of the way.

“Is this the trail you told me about?” Liam’s no longer being led by his pants, but he lets Zayn lead the way. They go past a birdhouse marked #3 and into a miniature grove. The sky opens up again. Zayn sits in the thick grass and plucks the petals off of wildflowers. Liam joins him charily.

“I never really liked boys. When I was a kid, my family used to say ‘oh, he won’t be able to keep the ladies away with that face.’ You know, shit like that. I grew up thinking that I should fuck around with girls. Don’t get me wrong – I like them.” He stops and ruffles his hair. Liam waits. “I met Ilia when I was 19. He was 21. It was just. We just, um, we hit it off really quickly. Sorry, I’m drunk. I hope I’m making sense.”

Zayn is lying down now, looking up in concentration. Liam focuses on Zayn’s features in the moonlight.

“You are.”

“We were inseparable. God, looking back – it’s like a cheesy romantic comedy. I was totally in love with him. We went to Chicago together. Stupidly, I told him. Um, things happened.” He pauses to pat his pockets. He pulls out a cigarette and lights it.

“It was my first time with a guy. It scared me. A lot. I didn’t know what to do with this newfound side of myself so I just stopped talking to him when we got back.”

A deer rushes through the thicket.

“I didn’t handle it well. He never hated me for it, even though I think sometimes he wanted to. I’ve never said this out loud, but I miss him. I miss him and I regret separating myself from him.” Zayn rolls onto his side and watches Liam as he tears a blade of grass into little pieces. “It’s been too long and I don’t know what to do.”

“Do you still… love him?”

A pause.

“I don’t really know what love is.” He finishes his cigarette and tucks the butt in his pocket. “I just want to try again. The memories are so haunting. All I can think is: what if, what if, what if?”

Another pause.

“I’m sorry for putting all of this on you.”

“Don’t be. I think you should put yourself out there. Maybe don’t go back to Ilia, but learn to accept yourself. Experiment, as they say?” Liam has a hard time pushing the words past his throat.

Zayn exhales and Liam realizes he’s been holding his breath too.

“You’re right.”

“Gotta try, right?” Liam offers hopefully.

Zayn stands up and stretches as tall as he can.

“It’s pretty late, you wanna just stay at mine?”

Liam decides tonight that he can’t turn Zayn down.

-

Zayn lives in a studio apartment in a historic building. They enter via a charming, but untrustworthy fire escape. Zayn pushes the door open blushingly.

“Welcome to my humble abode.”

It’s definitely small. Immediately to the right is the kitchenette outfitted with a half stove and a deep basin sink. There’s a solitary dirty plate inside. Further toward the outer wall and to the right is the bathroom. There’s a small partition between the kitchenette and the main room. It’s sparsely furnished with only a bed and a loveseat accompanied by a coffee table, but heavily decorated. The walls are covered with art. It’s a variety, but mostly abstract. The majority are thin pages pinned with brass tacks. About a dozen canvases lean against the walls. Liam wonders if any of it is Zayn’s.

Next to the bed rests the Gibson SG he played last weekend, and next to that a stack of college ruled notebooks on top of a simple Panasonic record player. There’s a mess of brightly colored, unmarked tapes in the corner.

Liam settles down in the loveseat and admires the large print hanging across from him, where most people would put a television. The coffee table is littered with books and magazines. There are more neatly lined up against the wall. A tattered copy of A Journal of Solitude rests next to Liam on the loveseat.

“I don’t think I’ve read a book since high school,” Liam calls out as Zayn grabs blankets from his small dresser.

“Most people don’t. I’m not a pretentious ass or anything. It’s just cheaper than Netflix.”

Liam chuckles, thumbing through a copy of some art magazine.

“I don’t get art either.” He murmurs. “Am I stupid?”

Zayn pops down next to him, causing the springs to cry out.

“It’s not about ‘getting’ art, per se.” He flips through the pages for Liam until it’s open on a picture of what looks like a child’s drawing of a child. “Just say whatever comes to mind when you look at this.”

“Um, well apart from ‘I don’t get it…” Liam dithers. “It’s confusing because it’s a picture of a cartoon girl. It’s mostly pastel and the lines are soft, but she’s upset?”

“That’s a good start.” Zayn scoots in closer and traces the picture with his index finger. Liam can feel the pressure through the pages on his thigh. He shivers. “It’s a Yoshitomo Nara piece. You should look him up.”

“What!” Liam whines as Zayn shoos him off the couch. “You’re not going to explain it to me?”

Zayn innocently peaks over the head of the loveseat. “No, that’s not the point. Sleep in the bed, okay?”

“Isn’t that couch kind of small?”

“So am I.”

Liam doesn’t argue that and before he knows it, he’s swiftly fallen into a deep sleep.

-

He wakes up first. The apartment must be east facing because the sun is piercing his corneas.

Liam counts himself as one of the lucky few who don’t get hangovers. To thank Zayn, he goes into the kitchen and cracks a few eggs onto a slick pan. The crackling of oil must wake up Zayn; because Liam hears mild footsteps approach him.

“You didn’t’ have to do that.”

“It’ll help the inevitable headache.”

“I don’t have a – ooh!” Zayn covers his eyes and slides down the wall. “Thank you.”

“Where are your plates?”

“Above the counter.” Zayn stumbles into the main room and Liam hears the telltale shriek of the old dresser.

He plates the over easy eggs and garnishes them with basil, like Harry does. When he carries them into the main room, he’s met with a sleep-eyed, sweatpants-clad Zayn. His hair is sticking up in all directions. Liam sets the food down and tries not to think about how Zayn’s arms trembled when he held him down last night.

 _Zayn is so small_ , Liam realizes as they’re eating on the loveseat. He barely takes up a whole cushion. Liam senses protectiveness wash over him.

“Hey, so about last night.”

“Yeah?” Liam replies evenly.

“Could you not tell anyone what we talked about? It’s not that my friends are homophobic. Lots of them are experimenting. I don’t know how to put it. I’m just embarrassed, I guess?”

“You don’t need to be embarrassed, but I understand.”

“I don’t usually talk so openly about such private stuff. I really do appreciate you being there last night.” Zayn gathers up their dishes and eyes the empty Marlboro pack next to where he’s propped his feet up. “I think we should hang out more outside of parties, if that’s cool.”

Liam lets himself smile. “That’s cool.”

-

About a week later, he’s surprised to see Louis in the living room. Harry appears to explain that he came into town this morning and they accidentally ran into each other at the gas station. Niall seems to approve of the situation, but he’s more so fixated on the Crash Bandicoot game he recently purchased.

“Niall, you’ve been playing that nonstop.” Harry chides. “Let us watch The Holy Mountain, please?”

Niall saves in a dramatic manner before chucking the unplugged controller at Harry. It narrowly misses him, but provokes Harry enough that he throws himself on Niall for a well-intentioned noogie.

“I’ve never seen it!” Louis exclaims, claiming the most comfortable armchair in the living room for himself.

“It’s pretty wild.” Liam laughs, switching the DVD player on.

It’s an easy movie to socialize over. The stranger scenes spark anecdotes from Louis, which he gladly shares with everyone. There’s one about jumping from one moving vehicle to another for whatever reason, one about how difficult it is to actually save a kitten from a tree, and the obligatory bad trip story that everyone has. Sophia comes over midway through and everyone has a great time.

At the night winds down, Liam slips into the bathroom to take a quick piss before heading into his room for a night with Sophia.

Someone knocks and he responds.

“Occupied!”

The door opens anyway and Liam nearly drenches the shower curtain in urine in an attempt to hide himself from the intruder.

“It’s just me!” Louis salutes him as if that changes things.

“What are you doing?”

“Door wasn’t locked.”

“The door doesn’t lock.”

“Oh.” Louis purses his lips as if he’s actually sorry. Liam knows better.

“Anyway, I’m in here because I have a question.”

“Shoot.” Liam zips himself up and washes his hands. Louis stands in the most inconvenient spot possible.

“Did you say something weird to Zayn last time you saw him?”

Liam turns off the faucet and stares blankly at Louis.

“What makes you say that?”

“He’s been walking into walls a lot. He forgot the lyrics to his own song too. Sometimes, he just stares wistfully into the distance.” Louis theatrically looks around to demonstrate.

“I just gave him some advice, is all.”

“Hopefully it wasn’t to stop looking where he’s going!” Louis teases as he leaves.

Liam sighs before he goes to wipe the seat.

-

Later that night, Sophia beckons Liam into the bed. He’s tired, but her neck kisses leave him aching and hard. So he flips her onto her stomach and grinds against her.

“Liam, I really want it.” She groans as he lightly kisses up her spine. “Please.”

“Convince me.” He growls, pushing her into the bed. She gasps against the pillows. “Show me.”

In response, she bucks her hips back against his to put pressure on the thickness under his boxer briefs. He lets out a low sound and she hums in pleasure.

Looking down at her tanned back, Liam can’t help but think of Zayn when they wrestled. The smell of sweat and sensation of heat. The feeling of Zayn’s muscles underneath Liam’s broad hands. The thought of his thin thighs on either side of Liam’s thick ones. Finally, the fantasy of Zayn beneath him, convincing him, showing him like Sophia is.

Needless to say, Liam cums in his underwear.

-

After awkwardly cleaning himself up and Sophia’s lighthearted dismissal of the incident, Liam goes to lay down. She’s sound asleep, turned away on her side. Liam brushes her long hair off of his pillow and checks his phone out of habit.

There’s a message,

_Zayn:_

_thanks so much for what you said. I think it’s really changed my outlook. downloaded tinder tonight haha lets see if I match with anyone_

Liam turns his phone off and tries not to dream of tousled, bleached hair.


	3. It's a Good Thing

The Midwestern colloquialism goes: “if you don’t like the weather, wait five minutes.”

Liam watches the sunshower turn into hail as he nurses his over-brewed coffee.

“My spinach!” Harry throws his phone onto the couch and dashes into the yard to cover his miniature garden with his nonsensically long torso. Liam and Niall can’t help but laugh as ice balls pelt their worried friend.

“That’s what he gets for trying to make this neighborhood look livable.” Niall observes. “It’s God pissing on us.”

Liam squashes a sugar ant headed toward his mug – a telltale sign of the impending summer. They always battle an infestation at the beginning of June. It’s the first of the month.

“We’re late on rent.” Liam realizes aloud and sighs.

The hail passes and Harry re-enters, teary-eyed. In his arms lay the remnants of his delicate spinach.

“Now what am I supposed to eat?”

“We’re not peasants, Harry. There’s Maruchan in the cupboard.”

“Sure, you think I’m ridiculous now, but someday when the grid goes down, you two will be begging me for some of my pea shoots.” He tosses his greens into the compost bin that nobody wanted in the first place.

Liam rolls his eyes as Niall pours three packs of Gushers into his mouth purely to spite Harry. A message on his lock screen simply reads: _i’m in town. coffee?_

-

“How’s Sophia?” Zayn asks in between pulls of his 10 a.m. cigarette.

“Busy, mostly.” Liam steals a few puffs but his second cup in the same day has him feeling jittery enough. “She’s got that internship at the news station. They’ve got her filing a lot of paperwork and grabbing take-out. She’s too good for it.”

Zayn hums in agreement.

Liam doesn’t tell Zayn about how he and Sophia rarely have sex or he can only finish by thinking about the boy in front of him. No, he doesn’t say anything. He just takes another sip and watches the commuters.

“I’m trying to decide if I want to renew my lease.” Zayn rests his head in his hands and swishes air back and forth between his cheeks. “What about you?”

“I’ve actually been playing with the idea of moving to Lawrence.” Zayn’s eyebrows raise, but he continues. “Maybe taking a few classes at the university.”

“Why?”

Liam’s chest tightens. Why? Does it sound stupid to say it’s for Zayn? They’ve only known each other for two months – the same amount of time he’s been dating Sophia – but he’s preoccupied with this boy. They see each other once a week, twice if Zayn’s up for it, and Liam generally tunes out the days in between. He hesitates to call it obsession, but he’s sure that’s what it looks like to anybody else.

“I need a change of pace.”

“That out of state tuition, though.”

Liam shrugs. He’s too insecure to explain the real reason. It all sounds so stupid to him now.

“How’s Tinder been?”

Zayn looks up with an “oh jeez” expression.

“A ton of duds.” Zayn pushes his hair back in exasperation. “They’re all so aggressive, which can be sexy. Only if there’s tension, though.”

Liam can relate.

“There have been a few okay dates. I guess I just prefer things to happen organically.” He signifies ‘organically’ with a wavy hand motion. Smoke trails behind his fingers.

“I mostly just use it for –“ Zayn smiles uneasily. “I’m sure a classic, straight boy-next-door like you isn’t interested. Sorry.”

Liam realizes he’s wincing and relaxes his face.

“No, it’s not that.”

Zayn believes he’s straight, Liam realizes. His heart hurts for some reason.

-

Zayn convinces Liam to go thrifting with him at the Savers in the Trailwood Shopping Center. Liam hasn’t been thrifting much since he hit puberty. His parents couldn’t afford to dress him through his growth spurts. As the automatic doors part, Zayn announces that he’s on a mission to find a gem and Liam meanders in the general direction of the furniture.

The sheer size of the building overwhelms Liam, so he chooses to sit in a pink velvet chair and listen to the Sheila E. playing over the speakers while Zayn hunts. It’s obvious that Zayn does this often. His wrists flick back and forth, quickly moving the plastic hangers to his left. Occasionally, he tugs a shirt from the overflowing racks and examines its tag closely. Then he moves onto the interior tags. The concept of this might as well be an alien hobby to Liam, but he admires Zayn’s expertise.

Zayn plucks an ordinary button-up out of the lineup. His eyes open wide and he skips over to Liam’s lookout.

“This is your size, right?” Zayn declares, unfurling one of Liam’s sweaty hands and placing the shirt in his grasp. “You should try it on. It’s Issey Miyake.”

Liam starts to ask what an Issey Miyake is, but the colors on the shirt are nice enough for him to quiet. He doesn’t know the first things about dressing sharp, let alone high-end designers, but Zayn’s shining gaze has him walking to the dressing rooms.

“I’m out here if you need a second opinion.” Zayn quietly says through the crack of the door. “If you take too long I’m going to keep looking, though.”

“Okay, I won’t be long.” Liam reassures.

He takes his shirt off and unbuttons the Miyake top. The shirt consists of two fabrics – a sky blue and a cool toned tan. The blue makes up most of the shirt while the tan is only the shoulders and the shorts sleeves. Once it’s on, Liam has to admit it fits him well, even if it’s not his usual style.

A green and orange striped tee and a bomber jacket flying over the threshold of the door interrupt his self-reflection. He hears an employee pitter-patter over to Zayn and chastise him. Liam muffles his laughter with his old shirt.

“Shut up.” Zayn whispers. “I found some more stuff, your size again. Someone must have sold their whole wardrobe.”

Liam checks the tags. The jacket is another Issey Miyake: something called Skyline. The shirt is Commes des Garcons. Liam vaguely recognizes the name.

“It’s just about the allure of a brand name, you know. They’re good quality.”

Liam would have disagreed before he met Zayn, but over the past few months he’s grown an appreciation for finer things. He knows the word _impasto_ and can taste the difference between drip and aeropress coffee now. Had Liam met Zayn under any circumstances, he probably would have made fun of him for his curated look.

But if Liam is to be honest, Zayn is the most genuine person he knows – even when he’s put on that mysterious persona.

“They’re really comfortable.” Liam watches his reflection twist and warp in the Walmart mirror. He likes the bomber jacket most of all. It’s a deep navy with a slight green tint. “You didn’t find anything?”

“Nah, I’m small. I don’t like to be drowning in my clothes.” He can hear Zayn’s pant legs _zwish_ against each other as he paces.

“I like these, I just don’t know if I need them?”

Zayn tsks. “Chance of a lifetime. Just give them to me, I’ll put them back.”

Liam comes back with each piece neatly hung. His mother always taught him to put things back in their place. He hands them off to Zayn, who walks toward the registers.

Liam trots after him with hands in his pockets.

“You don’t have to!” He blushes.

“It’s really more for me in the end. I like to look at you.” Liam stutters and Zayn continues. “In the clothes, that is. Like living vicariously.”

The total is $16.36.

-

Liam proudly wears the Issey Miyake shirt to his brunch date with Sophia. She compliments him, asks where he got it. When he responds, he expression sours for a moment.

“You’ve been hanging out with Zayn much?”

“Only a couple times a week.”

She hums neutrally, looks down at her poached egg, and punctures it, watching the yellow puddle.

“You’ve never mentioned him.”

Liam doesn’t know how to respond because it’s true. He’s more than happy to tell Sophia about Harry and his poor spinach or Niall’s latest get-rich-quick scheme. Hell, he even told her about Louis’s elaborate prank on a kid who called him “shorty.” He never once mentioned Zayn. Perhaps he didn’t know how to bring him up without sounding like a lovesick teenager.

They finish their meal in relative silence and mutually agree to cancel their superhero movie marathon plans.

At only 21 years old, Liam isn’t that far off from a lovesick teenager.

-

“Liam, what’re you doing tonight?” Harry asks when Liam arrives home from work. There is a Hobby Lobby children’s beading set sprinkled across their coffee table. He’s already finished a few bracelets. One says ‘NIALLER’ in baby blue lettering with translucent dolphin beads bookending it. He’s made one for himself as well, reading ‘ARRY’ with an earthy color palette. There are bracelets for Louis and Liam as well, but there doesn’t seem to be one for Kendall.

“Three possibilities: he’s going for a run. He’s boning Sophia. He’s letting Zayn pick out another outfit for him.” Niall interjects. He’s hot gluing beads together aimlessly.

“I’m – it’s none of those.” Liam asserts, locking the door behind him.

“Do you have enough to go out for a night of drinking?” Niall proposes, wagging his eyebrows.

“Yeah, I’ve got a bit of cash on me.” Liam suspects they’re up to something. “What’re you thinking?”

“Let’s go out.” Harry scoops all the beads into a Ziploc and shoves it away under the table. “Now!”

“Should I change?”

“No, you look fine! Let’s skedaddle.” Niall grabs his keys and leads the trio out the house.

-

“This isn’t quite what I expected.” Liam stares up at the brick façade of the building and the metal sign above the door. It reads ‘Breakout KC.’

“True, we may have fooled you –“

“With good intentions!” Harry interjects.

“ – but I think this is better.”

“Isn’t this sort of thing for, you know…” Liam watches the high school students enter in front of them. “Children?”

“We’re young at heart.” Niall offers, batting his eyelashes and opening the door for his friends. “Twenty-eight bucks a head.”

“Jesus Christ.” Liam unfolds his wallet and pulls out the money.

An employee gives them a rundown of the rules. The basics: no destruction, no stealing, and no general naughtiness. The key is to use the puzzles in the room to escape within sixty minutes.

They’re then led into a 70s hotel room complete with an orange armchair, sparse decoration, and no windows.

“This feels real!” Harry snatches up the comforter and rolls the material between his fingers. “Synthetic down. Most hotels have it.”

“Just as uncomfortable as a real hotel.” Niall opens up his arms and inhales deeply as if he’s come home from college.

“I don’t even know where to start.”

They settle into the rhythm of searching under furniture, thumbing through books, and looking to the monitor in the corner when they’re stumped.

“Who has the wrench again?” Harry asks from underneath the bed.

Liam hands it to him.

“Oh, nope. I thought that was a bolt or something. It’s just part of this Ikea bedframe.” He slides out and tucks the wrench into his pocket.

Liam holds his face in his hands.

“Hey, why’ve you been such a downer lately?”

“Niall!”

“Well, one of us had to say it.”

“I think what Niall _meant_ to say was…” Harry moves in close to Liam. “What’s been on your mind? You seem distracted.”

Liam gets up and walks to the corner.

“It’s nothing, really.”

“Is it Sophia?” Harry offers.

“No. Yes.” Liam considers the pros and cons of revealing the source of their conflict. “I kind of kept a secret. I didn’t tell her about Zayn.”

Harry and Niall lean in, interested.

“It’s not like it’s anything, I mean, I’m straight. He’s, well, he’s kind of. Anyway, I just didn’t tell her I’ve been hanging out with him. She got kind of weird when she saw my new clothes.”

“Well, if someone was taking my boyfriend on shopping trips, I might feel a little uncomfortable.” Niall shrugs.

“Yeah, but you’re straight.” Liam points out.

“And what makes you think that?”

Liam’s stunned, and maybe a little embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to –“

“It’s nothing to apologize for. It’s just that I don’t identity as that. I’ve messed around with boys before. People of all sorts of persuasions, really.”

Guilt settles into Liam’s stomach for having assumed so.

“I’ve done it too. Recently, actually.”

“Is Kendall okay with that?”

“Liam,” Harry smiles coyly. “I broke up with Kendall a week ago.”

“I didn’t know.” Liam finally sees how much time he’s been spending away from his friends.

“You haven’t been around much. I never got a chance to tell you.” Harry adjusts his hat and leans back in the armchair. “But, yeah. I’ve experimented, so to say. A couple nights ago, Louis and I got crossfaded. There was some kissing, to say the least.”

“Louis!” Niall guffaws. “That’s what that sound was. I thought it was the dryer gone all wacky again. Harry motherfucking Styles.”

“So you both? You’re bisexual?” Liam asks slowly.

“I don’t know if I subscribe to any one label,” Niall moves about the room as if he’s giving a Ted Talk. “I don’t mind the description, but someday I may decide I only want to be with men. Maybe women. If that happens, it’s okay. It won’t invalidate any of my past relationships or experiences, as Harry put it.”

“I don’t mind being called bisexual or pansexual.” Harry adds. “If it helps people to identify with me, so be it. It’s more for other people than for myself, if that makes sense.”

“Huh.” Liam realizes he must look like a fool in that moment, arms crossed and brow furrowed. “Nobody has ever said anything like that to me.”

Niall and Harry look at each other.

“So you’ve never…?” Niall makes a vague hand gesture, sort of fanning upward.

“No.”

“Not even with –“

“ _Especially_ no.” Liam says sternly.

“I think what we’re trying to say, Liam, is that it’s a bit obvious.” Harry scoots up in his chair. The wrench rests on the arm, the game forgotten. Liam hopes the cameras in the corners aren’t equipped with microphones. “Whenever I see you two together, I’m sure Niall agrees, it’s clear that there’s something brewing. I don’t think you should keep yourself from a good thing because you’re afraid.”

“Listen, you have two awesome roommates who are very open-minded and understanding. Yes, the world is scary. Your family might not know how to react. It doesn’t mean you have to stop enjoying your life.”

Liam shifts uncomfortably from his spot on the bed.

“Thank you for talking to me. I really do love you both. It feels weird to say it, but it’s true.” Liam takes a deep breath. “I think you’re ri—“

“Your sixty minutes are up, you did not manage to break out. Better luck next time!” The intercom blares.

The door unlocks and Liam pretends he didn’t nearly admit to anything. He play stupid on the ride home even though all he wants to do is be honest.

-

Zayn texts him that night and, for the first time, Liam doesn’t reply. He leaves his phone on the nightstand and goes to bed early. He doesn’t dream.

He wakes up to a buzzing that won’t stop. He rolls over in bed, his legs tangled in the sheets, and answers it.

“Hello?”

“Hey!” Zayn sounds out of breath. “You okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Liam answers sleepily. His eyes are nearly crusted shut.

“Oh, you just usually wake up early and text me, It’s 2 p.m., which is late for you. Late for anyone, really.”

“It’s 2?” Liam rips the sheets off and shoves his legs into the nearest pair of pants. “Shit, I’m late. I was supposed to meet Sophia and her parents for lunch over an hour ago.”

“Well, damn. I’ll let you go. Text me, okay?”

Liam hangs up before he can say goodbye. He throws on a striped shirt and gives his teeth a few brushes before he leaves.

As he’s driving, he scrolls through his notifications.

_Zayn:_

_haha for once I’m the one to say good morning_

_hey sleepyhead_

_okay well just hmu when you’re awake ok? Its prob good that yr finally getting some sleep_

_okay now im kind of worried_

_liam im gonna call_

_Sophia:_

_Don’t forget: Le Monde at 12:30!_

_Hey, I don’t mean to be a neurotic girlfriend, but I’m driving there now. Please text me just to let me know you’re awake._

_Liam, we’re here. I told them you’re having car trouble. Please._

_They ordered._

_Call me._

Liam nearly runs a red light in his attempt to get there, as if driving fast enough will turn back time.

He parks the worst he ever has and dashes toward the bakery. Sophia is waiting outside. She looks annoyed, but mostly disappointed. As soon as she spots Liam, her face drops.

“I’m so fucking sorry.” Liam pants as he comes to a stop. “I slept through all my alarms.”

She watches him catch his breath.

“If this was a one-off thing, it wouldn’t be a big deal. The constant postponing and disappearing with Zayn, it’s just too much.”

“What do you mean?” Liam feels his breath catch in his throat. “What can I do?”

Sophia ducks her head and shakes it mournfully. “I just don’t think this is what you want. If something’s happened, please tell me.”

“Nothing! Nothing has happened. Why does everyone seem to think I’m having an affair with my friend? Why can’t men be close?”

She looks up at him from where she’s sat on the sidewalk. Her eyes say it all. Liam exhales through pursed lips and sits down next to her. She scratches behind his ears, just how he likes it.

“You have to start being honest with yourself.”

“You’re right.” Liam mumbles into his pants.

“Please just say it out loud. If not for yourself, for me.”

“I can’t.” Liam doesn’t know why tears are pricking at the corners of his eyes. He feels completely helpless, even as his now ex-girlfriend holds him.

“You’re not a bad person for liking him. Or men in general.” She murmurs.

It’s the first time Liam has cried in a public place. They’re big tears, he’s quiet, but it’s oddly comforting to have all those strangers witnessing his grief. It’s as if them seeing it makes it real and legitimate. He doesn’t feel like a ‘sissy’ or a worse word, as he was afraid he might. He feels okay. After months of thinking he was sick or perverted, okay is nice.

-

The first thing Liam does when he gets home that afternoon is tell his roommates. He shuts off the television and asks them to listen. Harry rubs wide circles into his back and Niall looks him in the eye. He tells them everything from the start – about lying on the car hood, the meadow off the trail, the nuanced language.

He sees the distance now. He’s simultaneously regretful it ever happened and thankful it didn’t go on any longer.

“I know what we have to do.” Niall says after Harry’s suggested moment of introspection. “Throw a party?”

Before Liam can twist his mouth up in distaste, Niall wags his finger and continues.

“Harry and I will select possible suitors for you to celebrate your newfound love for cock!”

“Not all boys have cocks,” Harry interposes.

“It’ll be a night of steamy validation!” Niall ends his sentence with a thrust and Harry and Liam can’t help but laugh.

“Okay, fine. But don’t go expecting me to hook up with you-know-who, alright?”

“Zayn, Zayn, Zayn.” Niall mocks. “Liam, you’ve got to learn to say his name. We all know.”

“Zayn.” Liam grumbles and Niall gives Harry a vicious high five.

-

Niall and Louis do a great job of spreading the word amongst both KC and Lawrence burnouts. In the week to come, Niall constantly reassures Liam that it will be a “fuckfest,” whatever that means. Louis suggests naked buttfights, which Liam vetoes. Harry asks Liam if he has any décor preference, to which Liam unwisely says no. He comes home the night before to find their living room covered in sex shop trinkets. There’s a cake spurting buttercream cum (Liam tries not to imagine Harry making that request at the shop,) Playgirl posters lining the living room walls, and a banner spelling out “HAPPY BIRTHDAY MR PRESIDENT,” which just doesn’t make any sense at all to Liam and will probably also confuse the guests. Harry reassures him that with two kegs, the guests will appreciate the ‘vibe.’

Liam’s only request is that all fornication be kept within bedrooms.

-

“What if nobody comes?”

“This isn’t your thirteenth birthday party, Liam.” Niall teases.

“This isn’t a birthday party at all! Why did you two have to decorate the house like it is? It doesn’t make sense.”

“It wasn’t really declared in your honor. I just told people there’d be beer and cake.” Harry explains as he secures the banner.

-

It doesn’t take long before the living room fills with people. Liam recognizes about half of them from his times in Lawrence and as mutual friends of his roommates. He keeps looking around for that bleached poof amongst the crowd, avoiding conversations and ignoring friends in his search.

A familiar hand reaches from behind and squeezes his arm. Liam spins around on his feet and stands face to face with Zayn. God, how long has it been? Weeks? He’s still the same. Big grin, just enough stubble, but…

“Your hair. It’s black.” Liam says obviously.

“Yeah,” Zayn looks away and ruffles it. “I wanted my natural hair back. Everyone liked the blonde too much. You know how I have that complex about pleasing everyone.” They laugh. Before he knows it, Liam pulls Zayn in for a close hug. At first, Zayn’s body tenses underneath his arms, but he quickly relaxes into it.

“Sorry I’ve been awol.” Liam says into Zayn’s hair. It smells freshly dyed.

“No worries. We all need our alone time, right?”

“I missed you.”

Zayn rubs underneath Liam’s shoulder blade affectionately before they part.

“So, uh, where’s the beer?” Zayn coughs.

“Here, I’ll show you.” They go to the kitchen, where two kegs flank the fridge. They’re already out of solo cups, so Zayn grabs a coffee mug from the cupboard and fills it.

“Louis told me about Sophia. Are you doing okay?”

“Yeah, actually. I needed it.” Liam smiles wide and it’s infectious. “How’ve you been?”

“Ilia is here.” Zayn bites his lip and Liam looks around for a cap of red hair.

“A lot of people I don’t know came.” Liam shouts over the din of the crowd because he doesn’t know what else to say.

“I need a favor. Will you stay with me tonight so I don’t make any bad decisions?”

Liam agrees. It doesn’t hurt to have Zayn to himself all night long, even if every other person is interrupting their conversations to ask where Zayn has been and why he doesn’t come to their parties and if he wants to go home with them later. He politely turns everyone down and Liam can’t help but feel like Zayn belongs to him, even if it’s just for a couple hours.

Somewhere along the night, Zayn must take a few rounds of shots while Liam’s head is turned because he’s suddenly obliterated. In the middle of a discussion of the last few gigs of show season, Zayn bursts into laughter and his knees buckle underneath him. Liam catches him before he can hit his head on the staircase.

“The face you’re making!” Zayn curls into a ball, making it difficult for Liam to move him out of the way of the raucous crowd.

“What, the face of concern? When did you get so drunk?”

“Louis, Louis told me it would be good to get drunk.” The telltale hiccups. “Toilet.”

“Louis, that asshole.” Liam mutters lowly as he carries the uncooperative Zayn up the stairs.

“So fucking spinny!” Zayn exclaims. He starts crawling, which helps, but Liam’s having a hard time directing him toward the right door.

“No, Zayn, it’s not at the end of the hall. That’s my bedroom. See this door right here? Yeah, no. No. This one. Awesome, go on in there.”

Zayn doesn’t have much hair to hold back so he leaves him in the bathroom and runs downstairs to grab a plastic bowl. When he returns, Zayn looks like he’s having substantially less fun.

“Listen, I’m going to go check on a few other friends. You can sleep in my bed. Lay on your side and puke in this bowl if you have to.” Liam grabs Zayn by his waist and walks him to the bedroom next door. He silently thanks himself for doing all of his laundry that morning. With much effort, he tucks Zayn in underneath the covers and props the bowl up near his mouth.

“It’s okay if you get puke on the sheets, but do try to aim for the bowl. I’ll be back, okay?”

“Okay.” Zayn groans. His eyes flutter shut and Liam prays this boy doesn’t die an embarrassing death.

-

Niall is waiting at the bottom of the staircase for Liam when he descends. He’s accompanied by a brunette with a face full of freckles and a charming gap between his two front teeth.

“This is my friend,” Niall raises his eyebrows suggestively. “His name is Kieran. He’s very friendly,” A wink. “And willing to have fun.” Another wink.

Harry approaches with a ‘friend’ in tow as well.

“Oh! Niall, I wasn’t expecting you to be over here.” Harry says stiffly. It’s obviously rehearsed. Liam tries to stop his eyes from rolling into the back of his head. “Liam, this is my newest acquaintance: James.” He’s the shortest of them all and has mischievous, cat-like eyes. Liam likes his black hair.

“Harry, did you want to do a keg stand?” Niall ‘spontaneously’ suggests.

“Why, yes, Niall! What a great idea!”

The two scurry off into the crowd, leaving Liam with two cute boys competing for his attention.

Between the endless supply of cheap, clear liquor and the intense attention from Kieran and James, Liam forgets about the upstairs situation. Kieran hands him a shot of tequila, but James leans in to reveal a strip of salt on his neck. _Fuck it_ , Liam thinks and bites down on a slice of lime.

Life turns into a soup of visceral and uninhibited reactions. Liam can tell his eyes are glazing over and hears Louis cautioning him to slow down, but his brain knows that the best possible option right now is to retire to his bedroom with James. James. James is pretty and he laughs at Liam’s jokes. He’s got narrowed eyes that make him feel like he’s being scrutinized. Or undressed. Liam likes that.

Harry collects a $20 from a disgruntled Niall as James and Liam trip up the stairs. The doorknob slips underneath Liam’s sweaty hands and James has to open it for them. They’re giggling like teenagers who’ve climbed out a window on a school night.

“Shh!” James presses a finger to Liam’s cupid bow flirtatiously. “Are you going to be this noisy all night?”

“Noisy?” Liam slurs.

James presses his pointer finger against Liam’s chest before tracing it down toward the zipper of his Levi’s. Liam swallows hard. James sinks down so slowly that Liam’s afraid he might finish before he’s even on his knees.

 _This feels wrong_ , is all Liam can think as James lifts his shirt to kiss his stomach. This boy is too pretty, he doesn’t have stubble, his hair isn’t thick enough, his cheekbones aren’t the same. _It’s all wrong_! He wants to reach down and move James face away from his skin, but he’s frozen against the wall.

“Liam.”

James’s mouth stops at the ‘v’ of Liam’s torso as an ominous shadow crawls out from the bed.

“Liam.” This time, more drawn out and scratchy.

“What the fuck?” James hisses before dashing out of the room.

“Liam!”

He flicks on the light switch to see Zayn, draped in a sheet.

“You were gone for, like, forever.” Zayn grumbles.

In his drunken relief, Liam kisses him on the forehead and leads him back to the bed.

“Why did that girl leave?” Zayn mutters as Liam’s repositioning the pillow underneath his head.

“Don’t worry about it.” Liam coos. The blankets are so soft. The pillows are so fluffy. “Doesn’t matter.” Liam pulls the sheets over them and swears they’re still warm from the dryer.

“A girl.” Zayn says sourly. “It’s good thing, it’s a good thing.” He repeats to himself. Liam falls asleep before he can consider what Zayn means.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really not satisfied with how this chapter turned out, but I hope you all enjoyed. I've been writing all day for this job application and I think it drained me.  
> It's possible that I may re-upload this chapter with the party scene redone.  
> As always, thank you for reading!


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